


A Very Winchester Christmas

by croatoanwholock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Crack, Episode Fix-it, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 18:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croatoanwholock/pseuds/croatoanwholock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kevin's alive, Sam has an ugly Christmas sweater, and there is quite literally an angel on top of the Christmas tree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Winchester Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place mid-season 9, post-Sam expelling Gadreel.

It’s the sound of Dean screaming that wakes Sam up. Regardless of how angry he is, Sam would _never_ let Dean be in more danger than they already put themselves in with the job. His hand’s on his gun before he even realizes he should look for it, and the younger Winchester finds himself tiptoeing through the bunker, trying to find Dean and whatever caused him to react like that. Dean hasn’t screamed like that since he was dying of fear (literally) and saw the cat in the locker. That time, however, it was funny. He’s concerned this time around.

Whatever Sam expected to see, whatever horror could possible faze _the_ Dean Winchester (who monsters look under their bed for), this is not it. Dean’s in the kitchen, coffee mug shattered on the floor by his feet. In front of him is a huge Christmas tree, decorated and all. Sam knows for a fact that the Bunker ceiling isn’t high enough to fit this tree. On top of the tree where Sam would expect to find an angel, sits none other than a living one.

“Gabriel?” Sam asks, incredulously.

“Hiya, Sammy.” The archangel responds, waving. He’s sitting, legs crossed on top of the tree in a way that definitely defies the laws of physics.

Sam’s at a loss for words. “You’re alive?”

Dean doesn’t let him answer. “Yes, Sammy, _obviously._ That’s freaking lovely and all, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“To bring some Christmas spirit.” Gabriel answers. His tone makes it sound like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam needs to sit down.

Somehow, things get even weirder. Kevin shows up with hot chocolate. Yes, the same Kevin who Sam remembers (unintentionally) smiting. He has no recollection of actually dying, and claims he’s been hanging with the trickster since almost right after The Fall. Cas shows up, stolen grace in tow. Whatever he was about to say is quickly forgotten when he sees Gabriel. The archangel decides to ‘go somewhere’. Dean just collapses on the couch.

Cas is pacing around the tree, deep in thought. “I don’t understand what decorating a plant has to do with the birth of Christ.”

“This has to be the weirdest Christmas ever.” Dean groans.

Sam nods. “I’m just glad Kevin’s alright.”

A flash of guilt crosses over Dean’s face. Sam chooses not to mention it. Still, Dean sits up. “You know how sorry I am about… everything.”

“I know, Dean.” Sam says quietly. “I think that I just need some time to-”

Gabriel reappears, cutting him off abruptly. He has at least ten shopping bags in hand. “Present time!” he announces.

The archangel turns to Kevin and tosses him a folder. “You first, kiddo. You’re going away for a week. Some beach. Picture one, okay?”

And with a snap of Gabriel’s fingers, the prophet has disappeared.

Dean jumps to his feet. “What the hell did you just do?”

“It’s fine Dean.” Cas reassures him. It doesn’t go unnoticed that the angel tugs on the sleeve of Dean’s flannel.

“Oh, would you look at that.” Gabriel smirks. Sam looks up and sees that there’s a mistletoe floating right above their brothers. Cas looks confused, but Dean's expression goes from slight amusement to fear.

Dean’s eyes widen. “Dude, no. I’m not even... I don't...”

“Shut up, Dean.” Cas growls, and kisses Dean hard. Sam knows his brother, and he definitely enjoys it. He feels a bit dirty watching this. Gabriel catches Sam's eye and winks.

“Oh,” is all Dean can say.

“Thank _God_.” Sam sighs. The tension between the two of them was ridiculous.

“Gabriel. My name’s Gabriel.” The archangel corrects him. Sam shoots him a look.

“Dean, we need to speak privately.” Cas announces. Then the two of them are gone, leaving Sam alone with Gabriel. _Great,_ Sam sighs internally.

“Problem, Sammy?” the trickster asks, smirking in a way that means he was reading his mind.

“How are you alive?”

“ _Please_ , you never even saw me die.” It’s clear Gabriel’s avoiding the question.

“I said _yes_. When I did that, Lucifer saw my memories, and I saw his. I saw him kill you.” Sam tells him. He also felt the pain that Lucifer felt from killing and losing his brother, the pain the whole Host felt from losing an archangel. That can’t be fabricated.

“Body double.” he answers flippantly.

Sam scowls. Dean would call it his classic bitchface. “ _Gabriel._ ”

“I meant to see you earlier, but it wasn’t safe.” It’s clear the angel is just making excuses. When he takes in Sam’s expression – the hurt and sadness in his eyes, he changes the subject. “Wanna see your present?”

The hunter just shrugs. “Sure.”

Gabriel snaps his fingers. Sam’s not wearing his pajamas anymore. Instead, he’s in his boxers, fuzzy socks and has a brand new sweater on. Sam looks down at the ugly Christmas sweater and notices a moose pattern.

“I thought it would suit you,” the archangel explains.

Sam rolls his eyes. “ _Really?_ ”

“You look cute!” Gabriel insists.

Sam’s eyes widen. Whatever he feels (felt?) for the archangel, it’s definitely weird. Sam doesn’t mind the male vessel, really. He can even wrap his head around the fact that he’s a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. Sam clearly has no issues with being attracted to non-humans. But the one thing Sam can’t rationalize is that this is the man – the _monster_ – that killed Dean hundreds of times, and then left him alone for six painful months.

“I can read your thoughts, Samsquash.” Gabriel reminds him gently. _Whoops_.

“Do you have to do that?” Sam asks, annoyed.

“You’re practically shouting them. It’s hard to tune it out.” The archangel moves across the room and _way_ into Sam’s personal space. “Now do I need to break out another mistletoe or are you gonna kiss me already?”

Sam doesn’t need to be asked twice.

Despite the height difference, Gabriel’s a great kisser. He tastes like chocolate, which isn’t surprising at all. There’s something else about kissing him, something that affects him subconsciously. Sam feels cleaner, _purer_. As if the angel is absolving him of sin.

Gabriel chuckles. “Believe me, there’s going to be _plenty_ of sin.”

Best. Christmas. Ever.


End file.
